


Manchester Moments

by Chillmaster3000



Series: Cerulean AU [4]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Cerulean Universe, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillmaster3000/pseuds/Chillmaster3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bartlet Administration races to start the re-election campaign while Cerulean deals with the after effects of the crash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. General Unrest

**Author's Note:**

> So, as Cerulean's doctor had warned, Cerulean is experiencing some difficulties after leaving the hospital. The biggest problems she has are with nightmares, so if that bothers you or if small children crying bothers you, you might want to skip this chapter and go to the next.

Jed Bartlet sits on Air Force One, thinking that maybe his life hasn’t changed too much after becoming President. He’s got a speech in one hand and a sleeping child by his side. It’s quite reminiscent of his days as governor, except this little girl technically isn’t his. Jed considers Cerulean family however, just like his staff. 

Jed had Charlie bring Cerulean into his office when he was able to hear Sam and Doug going at it from two rooms away. Cerulean miraculously stayed asleep through the argument and the move. Jed supposes that was the fatigue. Sam had said she’d be a lot less energetic than usual, and it was getting close to midnight. She should be asleep. They should all be asleep.

Jed sighs and adjusts his glasses. This flight is too long. Cerulean’s tossing and turning beside him now, and he wonders if the air of stress that surrounds them all is getting to her. Fred gets tossed to the floor in all the moving. Jed puts his papers down and picks the toy up. He sets Fred next to Cerulean. Her eyes fly open and she sits up.

“Mister President?” Her voice is high and distressed. Jed reaches to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Yes, Cerulean, I’m here. Are you all right?” he asks. She shakes her head.

“I want my Daddy.”

“He’s working right now,” Jed says. “But I’m here, and Charlie’s right outside. What do you need? What can I do?”

“I need Daddy.” The door opens and Charlie walks in. 

“Everything all right, sir?”

“Charlie, I think Cerulean’s had a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?” Jed says. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it.” Cerulean begins to cry. Damn it. Jed rubs her shoulder and back.

“Shh, it’s all right, Cerulean. Whatever it is, it’s over, it’s all right.”

“Sir, I’m going to get Sam,” Charlie says, backing out of the room. Cerulean’s crying continues, no matter what Jed says. C.J. enters shortly after Charlie leaves. 

“What’s going on, Mr. President? Is she okay?”

“Apparently not, C.J. I think it was a nightmare,” Jed says. C.J. comes over to kneel in front of Cerulean.

“Hey, Cerulean, look at me. Look at me, sweetie. You’re okay,” she soothes. It does nothing to stop the tears, which actually become more hysterical. 

“I want my Daddy! I need my Daddy!” she sobs. There’s a few more minutes of fruitless calming attempts and Cerulean crying before Sam arrives with Charlie. Sam rushes over and picks Cerulean up. 

“I got you, Cerulean,” he says softly. She puts her face in his shirt and cries some more. Sam looks at Jed.

“Sorry, Mr. President. She’s been like this since she got back from the hospital.”

“It’s fine, Sam. Don’t worry about me,” Jed says. Sam nods and looks down at Cerulean, who is starting to calm down. 

“Want me to walk you around a little, Cerule? We could explore.”

“I- I don’t- don’t know- where-”

“You’re on Air Force One, remember? We talked about this before,” Sam says. Cerulean nods. 

“Let’s- let’s walk- around.” Sam takes her out of the room. Jed turns to C.J. She spreads her hands somewhat helplessly.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. President?”

“No. Thank you, C.J.,” he answers. There’s nothing else to be done really; nothing that will help Cerulean or Sam right now.


	2. Teaching A Child To Be A Smart Ass Always Backfires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh is surprisingly good at comforting Cerulean. Go figure

Josh knocks on the hotel door across from his own. After a moment, Sam opens the door. He looks as tired as Josh feels.

“Hey. Is something going on?” Sam says.

“Nah. I just wanted to see how you guys were doing. I didn’t wake her up, did I?” Josh says. Sam shakes his head. 

“That would involve her sleeping,” he replies. “Come in.” Sam steps aside to let Josh in. 

There’s only one light on, the one between the two beds. Sam’s laptop is on one bed, screen glowing in the dark. Scattered copies of the speech surround the laptop. Some have been thrown on the floor, crumpled in frustration. Cerulean sits on the other bed. She holds Fred tightly as she watches the men come in. The dark circles under her eyes look even larger in the shadows of the room.

“Hi, Uncle Josh.”

“Hey, kiddo. What are you doing up so late?” Josh says.

“What are you doing up so late?” Cerulean answers. Josh tries not to laugh as Sam sighs.

“She picked that up from you,” Sam says, exasperation apparent in his voice.

“I think that was a team effort,” Josh says. “And, to answer your question, Cerulean, I’m a grown-up and grown-ups get to stay up late. You are six. You should not be up this late.” Cerulean glances at the clock.

“It’s early now.” Josh looks at the clock, which reads 1 A.M. Fuck, when did it get so late? How was Cerulean not asleep?

“Look, Cerulean, it’s time for you to sleep,” Sam says. “Why don’t you sit next to me for a while and see if that helps?” He pushes the laptop aside and sits on the bed again. Cerulean climbs down from her bed, dragging Fred along. Josh lifts her up into Sam’s lap.

“There you are. Hang out with Dad for a while.” Josh pulls up some mattress on the bed Cerulean has just left. She’s busy making herself comfortable beside Sam, trying to hold him and Fred at the same time with her little arms. Sam helps by putting an arm around her.

“Why don’t you want to sleep, kiddo?” Josh asks. “You look tired.” Her face appears from the other side of Sam. 

“Nightmares,” she mutters. “Really bad.”

“Yeah?” Josh is uncomfortably reminded of the Rosslyn nightmares he still gets on occasion. Sam nods.

“Christine warned me they’d been keeping Cerule up,” he says. “You’ll be all right, though, Cerule. They’ll go away soon.” Cerulean does not seem convinced. She doesn’t reply either, but tightens her hold on Sam. 

“You know, I used to have really bad nightmares,” Josh says. 

“You did?” Cerulean says, big brown eyes focusing on him. 

“Yeah. They went away…around the time I met you, I think,” Josh recalls. The serendipity surprises him slightly, but he plows on. “But they were keeping me up at night. They were pretty bad.”

“How’d you get em to go away?” Cerulean asks.

“Time,” Josh says. “Getting farther away from what caused them helped, getting better helped…meeting new people- a particular small blue person- helped.” Cerulean giggles at the implications. Sam smiles slightly. “But they’ll go away, promise. And if I can get through it, then you totally will, because you’re way cooler than me.”

“I am?” Cerulean says. 

“Absolutely. Nobody’s cooler than you, kiddo,” Josh says. 

“That’s completely right,” Sam agrees. “In the meantime, when you do have nightmares, we’ll be right here to take care of you when you wake up. Just like last night.” Cerulean nods.

“I think I’m ready to go to sleep now,” she says softly. Josh stands.

“Well, that’s my cue. See you guys…later in the morning, I guess.” He turns to leave. 

“Josh?” Sam says. Josh looks back. His friend is exhausted, but the relief softens the exhaustion a bit. “Thanks.” Josh grins softly.

“No problem. You try and sleep too. We’ve got a long weekend ahead.”


	3. Thank God for Small Mercies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fatigue and lack of sleep leads to napping. Napping leads to nightmares. Nightmares lead to scaring the crap out of everyone in the vicinity with screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another screamy nightmare chapter, but also another awesome Uncle Josh chapter.

Josh walks into a room in the Bartlet farmhouse. Leo, Toby, and Sam are going over the speech with Doug and Connie. It’s going about as well as it usually does. Josh just walked past Cerulean napping with Fred in the other room, and he hopes the argument doesn’t wake her. God knows she doesn’t get enough sleep.

“He has to sell the greatness of America,” Doug insists.

“Why?” Sam says. 

“Because it’s an implicit argument to stay the course!”

“We’re selling the greatness of America,” Sam replies.

“Not enough!”

“We’re selling it in paragraphs one, two, eight, sixteen, twenty-six, thirty-six-”

“Listen, it’s a simple equation. Bartlet rules America. America rocks, therefore Bartlet rocks,” Doug says. There’s a collective raising of eyebrows from the Senior Staff. There are so many things wrong with that train of thought Josh doesn’t even know where to start. Perhaps with the casual disregard of democracy. Bartlet rules America? If Bartlet ruled America, we wouldn’t be having this stupid discussion.

“America… ‘rocks?’” Sam says, unsure.

“Bartlet ‘rocks?’” Toby is more incredulous than Sam. 

“Yes.” Doug is completely unaffected by their reaction. Josh stifles a laugh.

“He really doesn’t that much,” he says. “Leo? Can I see you for a second?” Leo looks grateful for an escape.

“Yeah.” He gets up and follows Josh out into the hallway as Doug sighs in frustration. When they’re out in the hall, Josh turns to Leo.

“RU-486,” Josh says.

“There’s nothing we can do-”

“The last thing we need is to come out of the gate waving a flag to the American heartland-”

“Look, Josh-”

“-saying we don’t share your values!” Josh finishes.

“The President understands all that,” Leo says.

“And?” Josh prompts.

“That’s the way it goes.” Leo turns to walk away. Josh follows him.

“Leo!”

“The FDA is an independent agency. They can announce when they want,” Leo says.

“The FDA is a division of HHS and technically not an independent agency.”

“Technically?”

“I can keep the President away from this. I can call the FDA’s chief of staff, I got him his job,” Josh says. “They can wait-”

“No!”

“Two weeks- to announce the drug. They don’t have to do it on Monday. I can fix tobacco,” Josh says.

“Tobacco?” Leo replies, giving Josh a look. Josh realizes what he said and shakes his head. 

“No, I meant 486,” he says weakly. Leo’s look is a mix of stern and sympathetic.

“Leave the FDA alone.” Leo turns to go again. Josh doesn’t have any more to say and sighs. Before either can do anything else, a shrill shriek comes from the room Cerulean’s in. 

Josh bolts towards the noise. Cerulean is sitting upright in the chair, sobbing. Josh is at her side in seconds. Sam is right behind him and scoops Cerulean into his arms. Josh turns his gaze from them to see Leo, Toby, Doug, and Connie in the doorway. Everyone except Toby is alarmed by Cerulean’s hysterics. Toby seems resigned.

“Josh,” Sam says. Josh hears the unspoken plea and goes to the bystanders. He begins ushering them away.

“It’s all right, nothing to see here. Sam’s got this,” he says as they go back into the other room. Josh can still hear Cerulean’s sobs so he tries changing the subject. “Are we still arguing about the President rocking? Because I can confirm he’s an absolute nerd.”

“What the hell was that?” Doug asks, eyes wide.

“Nightmares. It’s completely normal,” Josh says. “Sam’s got her, she’ll be fine in a minute or two.” Probably, he thinks. He hasn’t actually witnessed one of these before.

“What kind of nightmares end like that?” Doug says.

“Just leave it alone, all right? Making a big deal of it will only make it worse.” The sobs ebb and the soft sound of Sam’s voice is just barely audible.

“If Sam needs to take her home, I can arrange something,” Leo says.

“He doesn’t want that. Cerulean doesn’t want that,” Josh says. “She loves being here with us.” Leo nods, slightly unsure. 

“If we’re all finished prying into Cerulean and Sam’s personal life, I’d like to get back to the speech,” Toby says. He adds with a slight grumble, “As ridiculous as most of the conversation is…” 

Sam carries Cerulean in at that moment. She’s red-eyed and sniffling but the crisis appears to be over. Sam turns to Doug, looking as though nothing had just happened.

“Where were we?” Sam says. Doug resumes his argument of selling the greatness of America without any further prompting. Josh sighs in relief. Thank God Doug wasn’t a complete asshole.


	4. Braid Your Troubles Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cerulean and the President have a deep conversation about her nightmares in his kitchen with a few witnesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to hear what Cerulean's nightmares are about here. Proceed with caution. There's nothing graphic, but be careful anyway.

C.J. hadn’t witnessed the screaming and sobbing this time, but Toby told her softly before she takes Cerulean from Sam. C.J. is slowly realizing that this is becoming a regular occurrence. 

Which is seriously not fair. 

C.J. brings Cerulean into the kitchen about an hour after the girl woke up from her nap. The President is already there, reading over another draft of the speech. He looks up as they walk in and smiles tiredly.

“Hello there, ladies. How are we today?” 

“’M okay,” Cerulean mumbles. The President takes a closer look at her face and turns to C.J.

“That so?” he asks. C.J. shrugs.

“I think we just need to relax for a minute, sir,” she replies. “Is it all right if we sit in here?”

“Of course, of course. Can I get you anything?” 

“I think we’re all right, sir. Cerulean, do you need anything?” C.J. says. 

“Can I have fancy hair, Aunt C.J.?” Cerulean says softly, pulling on the end of her ponytail. Sam puts her hair in a ponytail when he’s running late, which ends up being at least half the time. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Sit at the table.” Cerulean climbs up into the chair on the President’s right. C.J. pulls a chair out behind Cerulean’s. The President puts his papers down and clasps his hands as he looks at Cerulean. C.J. sits down, taking Cerulean’s ponytail in hand. 

“So, Cerulean,” the President says. “You still having those nightmares?” 

“Yeah,” Cerulean says. “They suck.”

“Who’d you learn that word from?” C.J. says as she pulls the elastic out. 

“Uncle Josh.”

“Of course.” C.J. starts combing through Cerulean’s curls with her fingers. It’s not going to be the neatest braid ever, but it should please Cerulean well enough.

“Cerulean, if you don’t mind, why don’t we talk about these nightmares?” the President says.

“Okay,” Cerulean says. Bruno and Doug waltz into the room. They nod to the President as they head for the glasses on the counter. 

“What happens in your nightmares?” the President asks.

“I die,” Cerulean says simply. C.J. pauses with her fingers in brown curls as someone drops a glass in the sink. The President has frozen in his seat but soon he blinks and nods. 

“Yes, yes, I can see why,” he says finally. C.J. resumes braiding. “That must be very frightening.” 

“Yeah.”

“What do you do when you wake up?” 

“Cry. Scream. Look for Zach or Daddy,” Cerulean says. The President nods.

“Hmm. What do you do to calm down?” he says. Cerulean shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe you should think about doing something to calm down when you wake up. It’s easier to go back to sleep that way,” the President says. “When I have nightmares, I read a book. Do you have any books with you?”

“Yeah,” Cerulean replies. “What books do you read, Mr. President?”

“All kinds of books, my dear. For instance, right now I’m reading this book about a certain boy wizard. You wouldn’t happen to know that book, would you?” he says. Cerulean smiles.

“Is it Harry Potter?”

“It is Harry Potter! How did you know? Did someone tell you?” The President narrows his eyes in mock suspicion. Cerulean giggles and C.J. can feel some tension flow out of the little girl. C.J. grins slightly while the President and Cerulean start chatting about Harry Potter. Maybe, C.J. dared to think, things are going to get better.


	5. It's Far Too Late For This Nonsense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Connie's conversation outside the Bartlet farm goes a little differently than in the episode

'I should have taken her to the hotel hours ago,' Sam thinks as he carries Cerulean out to the car. It’s unreasonably late, if he’s honest, but they needed him for the speech and Cerulean needed him in general. Sam had to stay and Cerulean had to stay with him.

As he approaches his rental car, another car drives up and parks near his. Connie is in the driver’s seat. Thank God. Connie is mostly reasonable.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” Sam replies.

“What are you doing?” Connie asks.

“Heading back to the hotel. I might also be talking to myself as I go.” Sam shifts Cerulean slightly and attempts to wrangle the key out of his pocket with one hand. He’s not succeeding. Connie gets out of her car.

“Mind if I help?”

“Feel free,” Sam says, grateful. He manages to fish out the key and hands it to her. Connie unlocks the rear door and opens it for him. Sam carefully maneuvers Cerulean, still asleep, into her car seat. 

“I thought the speech was locked. Why are you still here?” Connie says.

“It’s not locked until the President says it’s locked,” Sam says, finishing with Cerulean’s seatbelt. He stands up again and looks at Connie. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Connie replies. “If you had to stay, why didn’t you send her on with C.J. or somebody?” She points to Cerulean. Sam shakes his head.

“The nightmares,” he says. “I’m the only one who can calm her down after. C.J., Josh, Toby, they all tried. It’s just me and-” Sam stops as he remembers that by the time they return to D.C., Cerulean will be living with him and not Zach anymore. “It’s just me who can calm her down.” Connie nods. “Anyway, what are you doing out this late?”

“I was trying to find a Starbucks,” Connie says. “A guy in a gas station said, ‘round here, people don’t pay four bucks for a cup of coffee.’” Sam smiles slightly. 

“New Hampshire. Live free or cheap.” There is a slight pause. Sam starts to go to the driver's side.

“Doug means well, you know. And he’s smart,” Connie says. Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Connie, it seems to me your job is to wait until Doug leaves the room and then say, ‘what Doug really meant was…’” Sam says. “How much they pay you for that?” Connie gives him a cold look.

“Sometimes it’s my job to say it when he’s in the room,” she says. Sam nods.

“Yeah.”

“We’re making a mistake not including an apology.”

“Is this what you mean or what Doug means?” Sam asks.

“Both,” Connie replies evenly.

“It’s not going to happen,” Sam says in the same tone.

“Why not?”

“Because Jed Bartlet is Jed Bartlet and that’s the way it goes.” Sam had said in the beginning that there should be an apology. He’d said it to Toby right after the original press conference, that awful, harried night he’d spent worried about Cerulean. In all the commotion, his point had been lost, even by Sam himself, but here it is to bite them in the ass in the form of Doug and Connie and Bruno.

“Well, I think that’s what you’re saying, and it makes sense, but you know what?” Connie says.

“What?” Sam replies.

“I think you want him to apologize,” Connie answers. “And not just for political reasons.” Well, didn’t that just hit the nail on the head. Sam shakes his head again.

“I haven’t thought about it much.” He’s not about to admit it. Not in front of one of Bruno’s people.

“Sam-”

“There’s been a lot going on and I really haven’t thought about it much.” That much is true; there had been so much going on with Cerulean and Sam didn’t have much time to devote to it. But it remains, in the back of his mind, especially when he sees the President with Cerulean.

“You were with him when he got elected. You got him elected. You got him elected,” Connie persists. “You worked for Bartlet 18 hours a day. You never felt-”

“Connie, please. It’s President Bartlet,” Sam interrupts. It’s a stupid argument, but it shuts her up before she can say anything else he’s already thought a thousand times. “Okay?” Connie nods.

“Yeah.”

“I should get back to the hotel.” Sam turns to go to the driver’s seat of the rental car.

“What about her mom?” Connie asks suddenly. Sam pauses.

“What?” He turns back to her. Connie points to Cerulean again.

“Her mom. Her mom’s not able to calm her down?”

“I wouldn’t think so. She doesn’t seem to give a rat’s ass whether or not Cerulean’s okay, so…” He shrugs. Connie stares at him, shocked. Sam sighs. “Cerulean’s mother hasn’t been in the picture for years. Sorry, with everything that’s been going with Cerulean, I get angry.”

“And you’re not at all angry that President Bartlet lied to you and because of that you’re taking care of your five-year-old in a hotel while you scramble to fix his mistake?” Connie says, recovered. Sam has no answer to that; he just looks down at Cerulean. “That’s what I thought. Good night, Sam.” Connie turns to go toward the house.

“Cerulean is six, actually,” Sam says finally. Connie turns back to him. “She’d want you to know that. She’s very happy to be six.” Connie smiles softly.

“My niece is the same,” she says. “Go on, Sam, put her in bed. Big day tomorrow.”


	6. We're Working On It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost game time and Toby wants to kill someone.

Toby has had enough of this event and it hasn’t started yet.

He didn’t want to do the damn announcement in the first place. It is trading away their advantage of being incumbent and it is stupid. It’s bad enough that it’s putting strain on the campaign, but it’s stressing out the staff and it’s stressing out Cerulean. Not that she complains; she’s delighted to be with the staff 24/7. She’s not exactly thrilled about any of Bruno’s people. They’re nice enough to her but Cerulean is smart enough to see that Doug annoys Toby and Sam to no end. 

Toby is currently avoiding Doug and simmering in the high school stadium where the announcement farce will be held. He’d come upon a stack of signs proudly saying ‘Bartlet for President.’ Instead of finding the idiot who made the signs and stabbing him, Toby attacked the signs with a black Sharpie. Bruno promised the signs would vanish before the event started, but Toby isn’t taking any chances. 

As he edits the signs, Josh and C.J. come over. Josh is still pushing the RU-486 problem. At this point, Toby’s sure that the only way the FDA won’t announce on the same day as the Bartlet re-election campaign is an act of God. Josh Lyman, as much as he would like to pretend otherwise, does not have that kind of presence.

“Hey, see this?” Toby holds up the sign he’s just fixed. It now says ‘Bartlet IS THE President.’ C.J. holds back an exasperated sigh.

“We’re taking care of it,” she says.

“No, I’m taking care of it,” Toby replies. “Either of you seen Cerulean lately? Sam just went by and she wasn’t with him.” C.J. shakes her head.

“Haven’t seen her since this morning,” she says.

“I saw her like an hour ago when we got here,” Josh says. Damn it. Cerulean’s still in recovery from the surgery and she’s not supposed to be walking around or climbing stairs too much. She will, however, do exactly that to find someone she knows or if she gets bored. Toby starts looking around.

“She can’t be by herself. The last thing any of us need is to have to rush her to a hospital because she passed out somewhere in this hullabaloo-”

“Toby, I’ll go look for her. She can’t have gotten far, the Secret Service is everywhere,” Josh said. He starts walking off to the stands. Toby sighs. 

“She’ll be fine, Toby,” C.J. says. “Cerulean knows she has to be careful. She’s probably parked herself somewhere until one of us passes by. That’s what she does at the house.”

“After she wanders around for a while,” Toby grumbles. “I’ve seen her do it, C.J. She gets bored sitting around. And nobody makes good decisions sleep-deprived.” C.J. winces. 

“You think it’s that bad?” she asks. 

“I know she’s only getting two or three hours at night. If I shove Sam out the door early enough, they get back to the hotel at a reasonable time, but that doesn’t mean Cerulean will sleep the whole time,” Toby says.

“The nightmares are pretty bad,” C.J. says. “She told the President she dreams about dying.” Toby turns back to the signs. He’s afraid what will show on his face if he looks at C.J.

“That’d certainly keep me up at night,” he says, voice betraying nothing. C.J. seems to know anyway and puts a hand on his arm.

“Toby, if I go-”

“You shouldn’t.”

“If I do, though, I’m going to stay in D.C. I’ll stick around for Cerulean. I’ll help Sam and his mom with her,” C.J. continues. Toby nods.

“Good. She’d like that,” he says. “But you shouldn’t resign. We need you, C.J.” He turns to look at her again and C.J. smiles softly. 

“Careful, Toby. You wouldn’t want people knowing you’re a big softie underneath,” she says. Toby scoffs. 

“I think I have enough of a reputation to make that thoroughly unbelievable.”


	7. This Ain't A Scene, It's A Presidential Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo and Cerulean meet unexpectedly in the stands.

Leo is walking around the stadium, getting a feel for the place. It’s a nice space, really, very sunny and open. The band’s not so loud from the stage or up here in the stands, the music tolerable talent-wise. Leo likes the red-white-and-blue decorations. It’s just the right amount of patriotic flair, he feels, not so over-whelming that you feel like you just walked into a redneck Fourth of July. He’s been to a few of those kind of campaign stops. They’re not the kind the President enjoys very much. 

As Leo ambles through the stadium stands, he sees a pair of small feet kicking a few rows up. Suspicion leads him up to find Cerulean sitting by herself, watching him walk up. Leo’s not really sure what to do; he doesn’t see much of the girl and while he knows she likes the Staff, he’s not sure how she feels about him.

“Hi, Mr. Leo,” Cerulean says. “Whatcha doin?”

“Just walking around,” Leo answers. “You up here by yourself?”

“I got lost,” Cerulean says with a shrug. “I was supposed to find Aunt Donna but I got lost and then I was tired.”

“You still lost?” Leo asks. Cerulean shakes her head.

“Uncle Toby and Aunt C.J. are over there by the stage.” She points and Leo, whose far vision is starting to go, takes her word for it. “And Daddy’s with Mr. Bruno by the band and Uncle Josh is somewhere on this side too.” Leo nods.

“But no Aunt Donna yet?” The phrase is strange in his mouth, but Cerulean doesn’t seem to notice.

“I think she’s in the school.”

“Probably. Mind if I sit with you for a minute?” Leo says. Cerulean shrugs again.

“Okay.” Leo takes the seat next to hers. He looks at the field below, full of chairs and people, and realizes they’re halfway up. How Cerulean got lost and ended up here was beyond him, but it was a nice view. Mallory wouldn’t have stayed up here long; his daughter had suffered from a fear of heights when she was little, and it never really went away. Jed hadn’t exactly helped, with his encouragement that he was still afraid of heights and he was a perfectly normal individual. Leo usually replied that was stretching the definition of normal.

“Mr. Leo?” His reminiscing is cut off by Cerulean’s voice. He looks at her and for a moment her face is Mallory’s. Leo blinks and Cerulean’s face is her own again.

“Yeah, Cerulean?”

“What is all this for?” Cerulean asks. 

“The President is running for re-election. You know what re-election is?” Leo says. Cerulean nods.

“He wants to stay President.”

“Yeah. So we’re telling everybody he’s running again.” 'Which we shouldn’t have to,' Leo thinks, 'but thanks to Jed’s damn stupidity and his morals, we do.'

“Does he hafta run far?” 

“What?”

“Mr. President. You said he’s running,” Cerulean says. “Does he have to run far?” Leo chuckles.

“It’s not that kind of race, kid,” he says. 

“What kinda race is it then? Is it a bicycle race?”

“No, it’s not a bicycle race either.” 'The day I let that man near a bicycle again is the day I resign.' “Do you know what a metaphor is? I’ll bet your dad’s said plenty about metaphors the past few days.”

“It’s when a thing is taking the place of another thing,” Cerulean says. “Like when you say the cat’s out of the bag, there’s not actually a cat. It just means that everybody knows something.” 

“Right. In this case, running doesn’t mean the President is actually running anywhere. It means he’s trying to get people to vote for him,” Leo says. And it’s not going to be easy this time around. “If he gets the most votes, he gets to be President again.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Cerulean says. Leo sighs.

“Then we lose. Someone else gets to be President and we all go job-hunting,” he answers. 

“Does that mean everybody leaves the White House?” Leo nods. 

“We’ll probably stay in D.C., most of us. The President will probably come back to New Hampshire and some people will go off in different directions. It happens,” he says. “Your dad will probably get a job that lets him spend more time with you. That’ll be nice, won’t it?”

“I guess,” Cerulean says. “But then I won’t see everybody else as much, right? Like Uncle Toby and Aunt C.J. and Uncle Josh and Aunt Donna and you and Mr. President?” Leo’s surprised she counted him in there. Maybe they’re on better standing than he thought.

“That’s definitely a possibility,” he says. Cerulean nods and turns to look at the field below them again. Leo follows her gaze. He’ll admit that this fanfare is a bit annoying, since they should have the home-field advantage, but if it wins them the election, he really doesn’t care.

“Mr. Leo?” This time Cerulean tugs on his sleeve insistently. Leo faces her again and her expression is very serious. It’s sort of adorable to see such a grave look on this six-year-old.

“Yes, Cerulean?” Leo says, trying not to smile. 

“You gotta win, okay? Everybody has to stay together, so you gotta win the race,” Cerulean says in a solemn voice. It takes everything he has in him to not laugh.

“That’s what we’re trying to do,” Leo says. “I promise, we’re gonna do everything we can to win.”

“Pinky promise?” Cerulean holds up her tiny hand, little finger outstretched. Leo puts out his own pinky.

“Pinky promise.” Their fingers lock for a second. 'Well, now we really have to win,' Leo thinks. 

“Cerulean! There you are!” Josh comes up the stairs of the stands. “Geez, kiddo, why’d you go all the way up here?”

“Felt like it,” Cerulean replies. Leo smirks. Toby’s right, she is a little smartass in training. No one would be all that surprised. 

“Yeah, well, your dad’s not gonna be happy you climbed all these stairs. You know you’re not supposed to be overexerting yourself,” Josh says.

“I didn’t go to the top. I stopped when I got tired.”

“Are you still tired?”

“Maybe…” Josh sighs. He looks at Leo. 

“Was Mallory like this? Or is this another wonderful trait that’s all Cerulean?” 

“They all go through a phase like this at some point,” Leo answers. “Wait til the teen rebellion and angst kicks in. That’s fun to watch.”

“Yeah, watch. Not live through,” Josh says with a wince. “Look, Cerulean, it’s almost time to go. I’ll carry you down to Daddy, all right?”

“I’m tired of being carried. I wanna walk,” Cerulean says. 

“You can’t,” Josh says.

“Yes, I can. I walked up, I can walk down.”

“And then you go to the hospital because you can’t walk anymore. Do you want to go back to the hospital?” Josh asks. Cerulean scowls and crosses her arms.

“Not going to the hospital again, Uncle Josh. I’m not.”

“Listen, Cerulean,” Leo says, sensing disaster. “I know you’re tired of being carried, but what if you tried something new?”

“New?” Josh and Cerulean say in unison. It’s hard to tell which one is more suspicious.

“Does Uncle Josh normally give you a piggy back ride?” Leo asks. Cerulean shakes her head. “Why not try it? It could be fun.” Cerulean thinks it over for a second. 

“Mmm…okay. We can try that.” Josh sighs in relief. Leo stands up and moves aside so Josh can reach Cerulean. His deputy bends down to let Cerulean scramble onto his back. She puts her arms around his neck and Josh hooks his arms under her legs.

“All set, kiddo?”

“Yeah.” Josh stands and Cerulean squeals in delight. Leo smiles as Josh turns back to him. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ve been here, remember?” Leo says. 

“Yeah. You comin with or will I see you back at the house?” Josh asks. 

“I’ll see you at the house. I wanna make sure Bruno’s got everything set up.”

“All right. Cerulean, you ready?” Josh says, looking out of the corner of his eye at Cerulean. The little girl nods. “Hold on tight, here we go!” He starts down there stairs, Cerulean giggling as she bounces. Leo watches them go, remembering when he was convinced Sam adopting Cerulean was a terrible idea. It’s a good thing Sam didn’t listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun with this chapter. It's so cute I nearly died.


	8. Things Have A Way of Working Themselves Out

The speech is done, the event over, the campaign kicked off. They’re all exhausted when they get on the plane. It’s a good kind of exhausted. 

The senior staff is quiet for much of the ride back, allowing it to be a well-needed reprieve. Josh and Sam have a bit of a back and forth over who gets to read the next Harry Potter book with Cerulean- Sam’s been reading them on his own to be able to talk about it with her, and Josh read her the early ones. Toby and C.J. half-listen as they enjoy the peace of not having to do anything for a little while. Cerulean is asleep in the chair between C.J. and Toby. It takes them most of the flight to realize something absolutely fantastic has happened. 

“Daddy?” Cerulean lifts her head slowly. Sam’s answer is cut short as he turns toward her.

“Yeah, Cerule?”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Of course. Come on over.” Cerulean climbs down and goes over to him. Toby watches her with a small smile. As Cerulean’s making herself comfortable in Sam’s lap, C.J. turns to Toby.

“What are you smiling about?” she asks. Toby gestures to Cerulean.

“No screaming,” he says softly. “No crying.” A moment passes as C.J. and the other two realize what he means: Cerulean didn’t wake up screaming or crying for the first time since their flight to Manchester. Josh starts to laugh, huge grin on his face. Sam sighs in relief and wraps Cerulean in his arms. C.J. smiles, allowing her head to tip back as her eyes close. 

This flight is just what they needed.


End file.
